


Destiel One-Shots

by vermillionpoppies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermillionpoppies/pseuds/vermillionpoppies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Destiel one-shots. Mostly fluff, maybe some angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just some cute destiel fluff. I hope you like it! :3  
> Due to some requests, this will have a few more chapters coming out soon.

Dean let out a sigh of relief as soon as he heard the Impala’s roaring engine fade into the distance. He had eventually convinced Sam to work the case (easy, a small vampire nest) without him. He took a deep breath before dialing Castiel. “Hey, Cas, you there?”  
            “Yes, I am here. What do you need?”

“It’s…uh…something strange is happening at the bunker and I can’t figure it out. I need your help.” Dean let the breath he was holding escape. He was a good liar, but not to Cas.

“Can’t Sam help you? I’m somewhat preoccupied.” Damn it. He needed Cas here _now,_ or else he would chicken out.

“He’s on a case, so I need you.”

Dean heard the semi-angel—Cas was still using borrowed grace—sigh on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there.”

After about an hour of nervous pacing, Cas finally arrived. “Dean! Is everything okay?” He rushed to Dean, trench coat flying behind him.

Cas’s concerned face made a smile appear on Dean’s face, one he quickly hid. “Yeah, well actually…” The hunter grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What is it, Dean?”  
            “Uh…there’s nothing wrong here.” Cas looked slightly aggravated, so Dean pushed on. “I just really needed to uh…talk.” Dean shifted his weight back and forth before adding a “To you. Obviously. I mean Sam is great but sometimes, you need someone, you know, not related to you.” The angel’s face softened.

“What do you wish to speak to me about?”

“Can we, uh, sit down?” Dean motioned to a nearby couch. Cas joined him a few seconds later, completely disregarding the other’s personal space, causing Dean to flush. There was a pause before the hunter spoke again, stuttering at first but then the words pouring out of his mouth. “I…uh…I wanted to tell you that I’ve never thought of you as just another ‘brother.’ Or a ‘buddy.’ I remember when the Leviathans were in you, and you were about to kill me. I said ‘I need you’ to try and bring you back, but what I really meant was ‘I love you.’” He waited for Cas’s response, but the angel was shocked into silence. Dean took as a rejection, so he stood up and began to walk away, tears already welling in his eyes.  

“Dean! Wait…” Cas grabbed Dean’s shoulder, turning him around. “I…I like you too.” He pulled the hunter closer, scanning his face.

“Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

“Yes.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to popular demand, a second chapter. So much fluff.

The kiss was soft and slow and everything Dean had been imagining. Cas sunk into him, and he pulled the angel into his chest. A million alarm bells were going off in Cas’s head, telling him that _no, no angels should not have feelings_ and he didn’t care but he still worried and Dean pulled away needing air, allowing him room to speak. “Dean, I…I shouldn’t have these feelings, I’m an angel…”

“Since when did you ever follow the rules?” The hunter replies before silencing him with another kiss. Cas let his anxieties melt away into happiness. Dean liked him back. Dean wasn’t so much into hookers…or was he?

“But what about all those…girls you pick up at bars?”

“Distractions.” Dean pulled away, looking into the angel’s blue eyes. “You worry too much, Cas.”

“I…I just…I’ve never…loved anyone before.” He looked down at his shoes, fidgeting with his trench coat.

“Cas…” Dean’s voice went soft, almost a purr. “I would never betray your trust. Come here.” Dean pulled Cas into a hug, running his hands through the angel’s messy hair, kissing the top of his head.

“But…”

“Shhh…” Cas finally relaxed, letting Dean hold him, sinking into the warmth he brought. _This_ is what he had been waiting for.


	3. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a nightmare and Cas comforts him

He can't believe it. Dean actually killed Cas. He can still hear not the screams, but the silence in his head. Cas didn't scream. He just accepted his death as he stared with watery blue eyes into Dean's green ones. That was the worst thing. the silence. The silence of Cas's submission. He could still feel the the knife sinking into the angel's skin... --

Dean woke up in a cold sweat. "No...Cas..." he whispered. He clutched at the sheets. It had all been a bad dream. Dean lay in bed for awhile, panting. Eventually he forced himself to get up, only to smack straight into Cas. "Oh! I'm so sorry Cas, I didn't see you there.."

"Are you okay Dean? You look ill." Cas cocked his head to the side like a puppy. Dean blushed.

"Just a bad dream, Cas. Nothing to worry about." He scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Are you sure? You seem distressed. Talk to me, Dean. please?" Dean couldn't resist Cas's puppy eyes.

"Fine. let's sit somewhere more private though." Dean led Cas to his bed, where the sheets lay in a tangled mess.

"It must have been horrible," the angel murmured, gazing at the messy bed.

"I...I dreamt that I actually killed you, Cas." Dean buried his face in his hands, attempting to hide the tears that had begun rolling down his face.

"Dean..." Cas could think of nothing else to do but put his arms around Dean and hold him close. The hunter cried quietly into his shoulder, grateful for Cas's warmth.

"I could never kill you Cas. I...I lov-" Dean cut himself off as he realized what he was saying.

"You what, Dean?" He might as well say it, he was already basically cuddling the angel. "I love you too much, Cas."

Cas pulled him even closer, pressing a chaste kiss on his forehead as he whispered "I love you too, Dean."


	4. "Netflix and Chill" aka Vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some vulnerability and some "Netflix and chill" lead to confessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff fluff fluff and tropes galore

Dean was exhausted by the time he finally pulled up to the bunker. The case had been physically and emotionally exhausting, with a baby being murdered by some demons who were trying to satisfy The Darkness. Speaking of, Amara made an appearance, but fled before Dean could do anything to her. She said something to him which he didn’t quite catch, but it sounded something like “our paths are forever linked, and so are our deaths,” causing quite a bit of panic inside Dean’s mind. Not to mention Sam had another one of his visions. All in all, the day had been extremely taxing.

He threw his stuff in the entrance, much to the annoyance of Sam, and headed straight in to find Cas. The angel was…binge watching some sitcom. “Cas, there’s better television than that, you know. That’s what people would consider ‘trash television.’”

“Oh hello, Dean. Let me watch my ‘trash’ in peace.”

“Can I watch with you?” Cas was absorbed in his sitcom and appeared not to hear Dean. “Cas?”

“What is it, Dean?”

“Can I watch your show with you?”

“Of course.” Without looking up, Cas patted the space next to him. Dean laid down, settling into the pillows.

“Sometimes, after a long day, some shitty sitcoms are all you need to relax. And a beer. Now all I need is a beer.”

“Shh! Dean, they’re about to find out who the father is.”

Dean smiled at this, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He gazed fondly at the angel, subtly scooting his body closer. He hadn’t really sorted out his feelings for Cas, as he didn’t like feelings in general, but he knew that he felt something stronger than friendship towards him. He just…didn’t know how to act on those feelings other than by following his gut instinct. So he scooched closer to Cas, hoping he would reciprocate. Unfortunately, Cas was too focused on the show to notice Dean’s advances. But soon enough, the episode ended and there was a pause where both man and angel were forced to acknowledge each other.

“How was your day, Dean? I apologize for being so unfocused earlier, but I appear to be ‘hooked’ on this show as Sam would say.”

“Ah, it was a rough day and rough case, but I’m glad to be here with you. I miss having you on cases, Cas.” A rare moment of vulnerability passed over Dean, allowing some inner thoughts to become outward.  

“I’m sorry Dean, that’s not good. What was so rough about the case? If you don’t mind…”

“Eh, it was just some demons trying to satisfy The Darkness, but they killed a baby. Nothing right about that.”

“That’s awful. You must be worn out.”

“Yeah, it takes a toll on you, that’s for sure.” Dean felt Cas moving closer to him, and his heart leapt. He inched a little bit towards Cas, his cinnamon-vanilla scent filling his nostrils. He felt exhaustion setting in, and his head falling on Cas’s shoulder. He resisted the urge to run his hands through the angel’s messy hair and failed, stroking it gently. His hair was soft and downy, just like the angel if you broke through the shell of “I’m an angel of the lord.”

“Dean…”

He continued to stroke Cas’s hair. “Mm?”

“I…what are you doing? I find it pleasurable, but…” Dean moved even closer to Cas so they were nearly entwined with each other.

“I really…I think I love you, Cas.” And there was that vulnerability again, spilling Dean’s thoughts out into the open for everyone to see.

“Dean…I think I love you too.” Then Dean’s lips were on Cas, and cinnamon-vanilla mixed with wood smoke and cedar and everything was soft and good and suddenly Dean didn’t feel tired anymore. He was content, and so was Cas, and that was all he needed.


	5. Flirtations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drag queen!Cas and Bartender!Dean. Dean is a bartender at a gay bar, with regular Castiel Novak, a drag queen. Pure fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I recently met my favorite drag queen, so here is a fluffy and completely self-indulgent drag queen destiel AU.

Dean Winchester hated his life.

Well, that was a bit of an overstatement. Being the “sassy gay” bartender at Twink’s, a gay bar whose customers were mostly—you guessed it—twinks, wasn’t exactly fulfilling. It’s not that he didn’t mind being overly feminine and flirting with whichever skinny drag queen decided to bore him with their sorrows that night, he didn’t, but…he did. He was _not_ a twink by any means, more the kind of guy all twinks lust after. Honey blond hair, blue—or is it green? —eyes, muscular, tan, blindingly white smile, etc., etc. The guys Dean actually wanted to flirt with were ones like Castiel Novak.

Ah, Cas; a regular of his who was one of the only non-twinks. Cas, or Angel Lord, was a drag queen, too, but one with true artistry—Angel Lord was a drag queen like no other. She _was_ art, with costumes created from silk, beads of pearls, rose petals, and all the things that Dean wasn’t. Soft things, beautiful things, delicate things. But then there were the Angel of Hell outfits—black leather jackets, skirts, metal studs, but still somehow made to look as fragile as lace. Dean made a point to go to every show that Cas performed in, slipping in the back with his eyes following Cas’ every sashay and sway. But back to the present. Cas came in nearly every night, always ordered a Rose Petal (a drink that seemed to have been made for him) and chatted Dean up about the drag queen business. Sometimes he moaned about the expenses of costumes, or a show that was too crazy, but never about other drag queens. Dean had only heard him “throw shade” once, and that was when his ex-boyfriend beat him unfairly in a competition. But other times, like today, he talked on and on about all the costumes he was working on, animatedly describing some magnificent gown or another.

“And then I’m going to put gold dust all over it, but it will be ombré, so you can still see the lace underneath.”

Dean smiled as he polished a glass, feeling the rough rag scratch his already-raw fingertips. Cas’ hands were soft and delicate, but with muscle (is that even possible?) to them, just like his work. “That sounds beautiful.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I probably won’t get it to ombré properly.”

“It’s going to be great. I don’t really even know what ombré is, but it sounds fancy, so.”

“Have you never done drag, Dean?”

“No, I’m not that gay.”

“Dean.”

“What?”

“You work at a gay bar, flirt with twinks all night, and you say you’re ‘not that gay?’”

“I’m not actually gay.” Dean felt the secret slip from his mouth before he could stop it. He worked at Twinkie’s and could put on the totally-gay act, sure, but he always felt like he was bisexual with a preference for guys. Or maybe it was all that homophobia that he encountered growing up. Who knows.

Cas’ hand flew to his perfect mouth in faux horror. “Dean? You’re… _straight?!”_

“I’m bi, relax.”

“Good, because here I was thinking you were a hetero. But seriously, we need to get you in some drag.”

“I think I’m too muscular, Cas. Oh no.”

“Oh, poor you, you are apple of every twink here’s eye.”

“Mm. I’ll let you see those muscles if you buy another drink. Or just keep nursing that one.” Dean winked, his long eyelashes catching Cas’ eye, making him blush.

“Was that a flirtation?”

“A _flirtation?_ What era are you from, Cas, the 1940’s?” Dean chuckled, but fell silent when he saw Cas’ distressed face.

“I-I need to go.” Cas made to leave, but Dean grabbed his wrist.

“No, wait, I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. That was actually pretty endearing.”

“Fine. But only because you’re all muscly.”

“Yeah, yeah. But why did you want to leave?”

“English isn’t my first language. I’ve practiced a lot and I’m fluent, but sometimes I still say things…archaically. I had to get rid of that habit for drag, but again, it still slips through sometimes.”

“That must be hard. Where are you from, originally? You have no accent, that’s impressive.”

“Russia. And for the accent, I had to get rid of that, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? I get to live an amazing life that I would be persecuted for in Russia. Plus, this bar isn’t so bad, I hear the bartender’s pretty cute.”

“Was that a flirtation, Castiel Novak?” Dean paused. “Sorry, that was bad. But in all reality, I hate this job most of the time. This one regular is the only thing that keeps me from quitting.”

            “And who would that regular be?”

            “Oh, he’s about yay tall,” Dean put a hand next to his jaw. “Has these gorgeous blue eyes, kind of skinny, but has some muscle, is an amazing drag queen, maybe you’ve heard of him?” Dean’s eyes sparkled and Cas melted.

            “Hm…I don’t know you could possibly be talking about.”

            “I do.”

            Dean leaned over the bar top, pulling Cas’ face into his and sealing their lips together.


End file.
